If there is one thing I’ve learned in my years as a consultant, it’s that I will never receive a call from a J Walter, a Doyle Dane, or an Ogilvy exec. There are two reasons, I think, for this.

The first reason is based on mechanics. These and other large shops are sustaining themselves not through growth, but rather though cost-cutting, with their staffs serving as the primary objects of attention. Add to this the need to pay tribute to the Martin Sorrels, John Wrens, and Michael Roths of the world, toss in a heavy dose client impatience and dissatisfaction, and you have a perfect storm of increasing decline and looming failure.

The big shops don’t have money to invest with me, because they don’t have money to invest in anything, least of all their own people.

The second reason is based more on merits. The large firms figure they have all the answers, so why would they ever turn to an outsider for help? With their seemingly well-articulated training programs, sound new business processes, and proven client-relationship building techniques, what could I possibly add that would be of value?

In their minds, nothing.

Normally, this would be incredibly discouraging, except that while these shops plod on, trying to limit their losses and postponing the inevitable, there is a new breed of agency – smaller, entrepreneurially driven, highly focused and goal oriented – that is intent on getting better. These firms are a source of hope to me, and to anyone else who shares a stubborn optimism about advertising’s future.

I spent the last week at one such shop, a digital agency located on the west coast. In a word, these folks are good, really good, especially at new business, which has proven to be an engine of growth. So why did they invite me to visit their shop?

The answer to the question: new business.

The co-founder who oversees the agency wanted me to share first-hand everything I know, learned, and experienced on the subject. I was happy to comply, developing a series of presentations on every aspect of the typical — if there is such a thing as “typical” in new business – process of wooing and winning a prospective client.

It was a productive three days.

On the plane home, in thinking about the time we spent together, I came to the conclusion there was something that emerged as truly valuable, but that had little to do with me holding forth, PowerPoint serving as a prop.

Our most productive discussions were at lunch, at dinner, or in between presentations – I even sat in on one “live” meeting — just talking about the business. They had questions, I had opinions; they had views, I had views, and we freely exchanged and debated the dominant and pressing issues on their minds.

I write about something about informal meetings of this sort on page 30 of The Art of Client Service: “It’s not that I learn more things in these out-office sessions [lunch and dinner included] with clients, I learn different things.”

I freely admit my presentations were the rationale for my visit, but the real reason for my visit happened in those out-of-office interludes.

If you work in client service, you might want to think about this the next time you plan a client visit. In fact, if it were me making the house call, I’d be sure to build some downtime into my schedule, to give me time to learn those different, and potentially important, things.

Now, I freely admit a bias here, but in my view, the future of advertising belongs to not to the big, but to the bold; not to the traditional, but to the innovative; not to bottom-line cost-cutting, but to topline revenue growth.

In other words, the future of advertising belongs to agencies like the one I just visited.